No Return Policy
by Parfois Marguerite
Summary: Amelia Jones had expected her new house to come with a few nasty surprises. However, it seems that overgrown weeds and broken floor boards are going to be the least of her worries as she learns more about the peculiar history behind her home. Had she known all this before, she would have never of bought it. Even if her only neighbor was cute. UKxFem!US
1. Chapter 1

**Recently I've been experimenting with some new ideas and prompts for stories. This idea stuck out the most to me. I hope you all like the first chapter. I look forward to any comments or critique for this story, enjoy!**

The ride had been interminable, filled with the incessant blaring of this year's chart topping songs from her car radio. At first Amelia had sang along to them, her tone varying between childish and dramatic depending on the song. By the time an hour had gone by, it felt as if her brain was pounding up against her skull in sync with the beat of the songs. She ended up turning the volume down to one of the lowest settings, still loud enough to be heard. Despite what her head felt, silence was the type of pain she dreaded the most.

Why she was moving to an isolated house in the middle of a forest was beyond everyone else. Most people's dreams involved high paying jobs, loving families or even fame. Amelia's dream, however, was simple. All she wanted was a house. Not just any house, though. There was only one place that would ever fulfill her desire.

Amelia could tell she was beginning to get close to it and it wasn't just because the GPS told her that. The roads were becoming increasing rugged with every mile. The open fields that had surrounded her quickly turned into a compact forest, blocking her view on everything but the road laid out in front of her.

Amelia blinked at the sound of a gradual buzzing noise coming from within the car. At first she had thought that the speakers were at fault seeing as they weren't in the best of conditions. A quick glance towards her phone told her otherwise. Without taking her eyes off the road, her right hand reached down towards the console. Her fingers shifted through the various cosmetics and change before wrapping around the ends of the buzzing blue tooth headset.

"Aha!" She grinned triumphantly, placing the headset against in her ear and pressing the accept button. "Hey, Amelia Jones speaking. Who's this?"

"Your Mother." Amelia suppressed the urge to giggle at the stern tone. "Where are you?"

The girl took a quick look over the screen of the GPS. "About," She stretched out the word for a few seconds. "Ten minutes away, why?"

"You were supposed to call me once you crossed into Massachusetts."

Hesitating to reply, she chuckled nervously. For a few seconds she forget that she was a grown adult, moving to her own house where she could make her own rules and curfews. Her parents were states away, unable to do or saying anything that wasn't over the phone. "Sorry mom, I kind of-sort of forgot to. I've been driving on and off for hours so you can't really blame me for forgetting. I mean I'm talking to you now, right? That's gotta count for something."

Even though she couldn't see her, Amelia could tell that she was rubbing at her temple. The soft sigh she heard from the other line was proof enough. "Can you at least try to remember to call me before you go to bed tonight?"

"Yessss, mooom." She said in a deliberately grating voice.

"Sweetheart I just want to make sure you're okay."

"You know this ain't the first time I've been on my own."

Her mother shook her head from the other end of the line. "I know Amy, but sharing a college dorm room with another person is different from living all alone in a house that's several miles away from anywhere."

"You shouldn't worry so much, I'll be fine." It was relieving to hear the faint chuckle that came from her mother.

"Honey, I'm your mother. Worrying is a part of my job description." Pausing for a second, she finally said. "Listen, I've got to go. Just remember to call me later tonight and if the house is in worse condition than you thought, please check into a hotel for a few nights. Oh and don't forget to buy some groceries tomorrow and-"

"Love you mom, bye."

"Amel-" the call ended before her mother could continue. For a few minutes she feared that her mother would call again, scolding her for hanging up. However, it became evident that her mother wasn't going to bother to call her again.

Her red Ford Escort began to bobble up and down as it slid down the gravel road, mentally groaning that she would have to take this road every day from now on. She pushed the thought to the back of her head, reminding herself that it was worth it.

At least it was until she finally set her eyes on the house after more than ten years. The incisive bouncing of her car upon the coarse road ceased once it pulled up a little bit farther than twenty feet away from the porch steps (There seemed to be no driveway or garage for her to park anywhere else). "Lovely," she stated bitterly. Amelia had told herself over and over again that it would be in pretty bad shape, worse than when she had last seen it. Apparently she hadn't said it enough for she was in no way prepared for . . . this.

There was no denying that Amelia was a colorful girl. The type of girl who, when she was little, enjoyed painting everything but the paper, much to her parent's dismay. To her, dancing was any type of erratic and energetic movements done while listening to music, regardless as to whether it was in beat with the rhythm. The type of singing that people kept hidden away in their showers was proudly bellowed out whenever the mood was right in her eyes.

The only _color _this house had was from the green weeds that had gradually climbed its way up the walls. The paint was white, or at least was white. The shade reminded Amelia of the filthy looking snow you saw on the edge of sidewalks. The type that still lingered around once the grass had come up again and wasn't quite snow but more of a slushy.

She squinted her eyes to detect the next problem. The wooden columns that held up the porch seemed to lean in an odd angle. It wasn't critically dangerous at the moment but without proper help it would soon get that way. The only plus was that the windows were still intact. She couldn't say the same thing for the porch steps though. She would have to fix that first seeing as she was likely to forget about it during the night and trip on them on her way out in the morning.

Amelia doubted that she would be able to afford it had it been in a better condition. The house itself was in a Victorian style, much different than the colonial homes she grew up in as a child. The list of reasons why this particular house was a wreck could go on forever in her head. Instead of dwelling on them she chose to reverse the scowl on her lips. _Character_, she thought, _this house has character. _Although saying something had character didn't necessarily make it good.

Without much thought, her hand reached out to open the car door. She kept her eyes trained on her new home as she slid out of her seat to stand on the grubby, overgrown grass. In her head, she twisted the scene in front of her. Now before her stood the type of place her family could spend their Christmas's at. It was like one of the homes on _HGTV. _Modern aspects were incorporated into it in a way that didn't diminish its old world style. Instead of unsightly white paint, it adorned the brightest of blues. Flowers of all different shades hugged the sides of the house, instead of green and brown weeds. Above all, there was no signs of structural damage anywhere.

A hum of content passed her lips as she imagined her 'finished' house. "What are you smiling at?" The unexpected statement had her perfect image disappear.

Her teeth clenched down on the side of her mouth, suppressing a yelp of surprise. She had meant to turn around to face the unknown person but the sharp twist had her falling flat on her butt. "Huh," she blinked, looking up towards the strange man "who are you?"

The man before her was unfamiliar, he couldn't be one of her friends who 'promised' to visit sometime. Not like she had any British friends anyway. From this angle it seemed as if he was towering over her but if she stood up, she would see that he was only an inch taller than herself. His attire could be considered casual but to her seemed to stuffy for her tastes. The trimmed look he had didn't seem to match his blonde, disheveled hair.

She was a bit taken aback when he reached his hand out towards her, instead of replying to her question. Hesitating, she gradually brought her hand up to his. Her fingers ghosted over his palm, reluctant to accept this stranger's help. Shaking off the feeling, she grabbed his hand and let him help her up. Their grip on each other lingered for a few seconds even though she was back on her feet. His hand wasn't cold or warm, actually, it was like holding an inanimate object.

His thumb briefly brushed over the edge of her knuckles before he pulled his hand away altogether. "Oh forgive me, I forgot to answer your question." A brief, almost tired looking smile appeared on his lips as he paused before continuing his answer. "I'm Arthur Kirkland," he smiled at the young women "and you must be my new neighbor."


	2. Chapter 2

**I would first off like to thank everyone who added this story as a favorite and reviewed. I would like to answer some of the questions you guys left but at the moment I'm afraid that I would ruin what's going to happen later on if I did. Anyways I'm really glad you guys seem to like it so far.**

The smile he had faded as he noticed the skeptical way her eyes narrowed at him. "What do you mean by _new neighbor_? I was told that no one lived anywhere around here." She strictly recalled the word they used to describe this area of the woods, _isolated. _A term that she knew meant something that was far away from other places, buildings, or _people_. If what Arthur said was true then it meant that the relator who sold her this house didn't seem to think that Arthur was a person. Although, it was more likely that they simply neglected to mention him.

"Hm, then it seems that you were wrongly informed." His gaze briefly left her for the house. "Although, I'm guessing that's not the only lie you were told."

"Actually, for your information, I knew very well what I was getting into." She also knew that part of that was a lie.

His eyebrows raised up curiously as the beginnings of a smirk appeared on his lips. Although he hadn't meant to insult her, she took it that way. "I haven't seen you around here before, is this your first time seeing it?"

"I've seen it before," she paused "just not recently." The last part was spoken softly, something she didn't usually do.

"Just how long ago was that?"

She considered lying to him. He seemed young, probably around her age. He couldn't have been living here long especially since he was British. "Well, I mean I-I would have come back sooner if my parents didn't move away and-and I already saw it once so I didn't think it was necessary for me to come all this way just to see it before I bought it." It was obvious to tell that he was becoming impatient with her rambling. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, looking down she answered "It's been ten years." It may have been the look he gave or the just the general way he came off to her, either way she found herself telling the truth.

Amelia never enjoyed overly critical people, usually she brushed people like that off and continued on with whatever she was doing. However, somehow she didn't want him to look at her like they did. Like she was naïve child. "But you did see recent pictures of it, right?"

Amelia knew that no matter what she told him, she would sound like an idiot. Saying yes meant that she knew what condition the outside of it was in beforehand. Saying no meant that she bought this place knowing very little about it. "Not really," she admitted.

"You're telling me that you made a life altering decision that probably cost someone like you quite a bit of their savings and you didn't even know what it looked like!" His reaction reminded her of the one her parents had when she first told them the news.

"Correction, I didn't know what it looked like _recently_." He shook his head at the light smile she made. How could anyone smile when they just made one of the biggest mistakes of their life?

"Have you seen what it looks like on the inside?"

"What?"

Scoffing he repeated, "I asked if you've ever seen what it looks like on the inside."

Her answer was obvious to him when she began to rub the back of her head. "No, but it's not like the inside can be any worse than the outside, right?"

He couldn't help but laugh at her statement. "Well you're in for a big surprise."

The hand on her head joined the other one on her hips. "Have _you _ever seen what it looks like on the inside?"

"I have," he stated flatly. "I guess you could say that I used to be a bit of a caretaker for the original owner."

Now it was Amelia's turn to laugh at him. She eyed the gloomy place up and down once more before continuing. "Well you've certainly taken care of this place for me." She didn't catch him rolling his eyes at her, not like it would matter much to her if she did.

Her upturned lips began to fall into a frown as she began to think about the interior of her house. What if there was spiders and rats crawling over every surface? What if the furniture was so moldy and torn up that she wouldn't be able to distinguish the couch from the bed? What if there were holes in the wall the size of people? Amelia was young, fresh out of college. Arthur had been right when he said that she used about a substantial amount of her savings to pay for this house. She did have money left over for renovations but not enough to fix the disaster she was thinking of.

Theories surged through her brain and clouded her vision. She didn't notice Arthur leave her side until he stood directly in front of the chipped door. Scowling, he looked back towards the absent-minded woman. "Oi," her gaze snapped away from the shingles to look at him, "don't you want to see what it's like on the inside?"

There was a part of her that wanted to say no, to leave and stay somewhere else for a while. Though that part of her, the part that had tried to stop her from buying the house in the first place, often was ignored. Arthur was a bit taken aback when she began marching her way towards him. The last owners were an older couple who waited in hotel while their sons inspected the place to see if there was any major issues.

Amelia had held her head up high on her way over to him, intending to look just as audacious as the main characters in her favorite horror movies (the ones that lived of course). The first step on the porch had made the smallest of creaks under her feet, nothing more. Unfortunately she couldn't say the same for the second step. "Ah!" It took Arthur a second, two for Amelia, to realize what had happened.

"Did you seriously not notice the missing step?" Strangely enough, Amelia didn't even realize that she had tried to step on thin air until he had pointed it out to her.

_Note to self, get steps fixed_, she thought. The note, however, would easily be forgotten within the hour. Panicking, she pushed herself off from off the ground, afraid that he would eventually come over to her. One hand tried and failed to discreetly brush the muck off from the back of her jeans. Thinking it was clean, she continued her way to the door.

"For the record I am not clumsy just . . ."

"Unobservant." She recoiled at the statement.

"Err . . . I guess you could say that."

He didn't respond back and neither did she. Well, at least she would have if there was something more to say. Her left hand glided down the ends of her shirt and towards entrance of her pants pocket. It wasn't hard to find the key seeing as it was pressed up against a mini box of _altoids. _"Aha," she made quick work of pulling it out and pressing it into the lock.

Arthur, out of habit, was the first one to grab the handle of the door and push. However, rather than swing open with ease, it remained shut as if something was pushing against it from the inside. Tilting her head to the side, Amelia watched the Englishman press his entire weight against the door. Gritting his teeth, he glanced back over towards her. "It doesn't usually do this," he grumbled.

"Maybe I should try?"

For a moment the relentless rattling of the handle stopped as her statement registered in his mind. "I highly doubt that a girl like you would have better luck than me."

Her right hand moved to press against the edge of the door. Despite the fact that distance between her arm and his head was so slim that the edges of his hair brushed up against her, Arthur didn't see her hand. Much like Amelia with the porch steps, he didn't notice the door swing open until he started to fall forward. The scarping of the door upon the chipped wood floors echoed throughout the halls, much like a student pulling in their chair during a test. Strangely enough, no sound came forth when Arthur's body tumbled onto the foyer floor.

Amelia's chest heaved up in rapid motion as she took in a sharp gasp of surprise. Although it was not because of Arthur. Actually, any thoughts and concerns about him disappeared the moment her eyes met the interior of her house.

This . . . was not what she expected.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry I haven't been able to update in a while. In all honesty, I've been rather busy with school and midterms to the point where I haven't had much time to do things like writing. I'm going to try update more in the upcoming weeks. **

**I would also like to thank That One Eccedentesiast for leaving a review. **

**I hope you all like the chapter. **

Amelia was never the type of person to think twice about her decisions. Never look back; that was her motto. However, it seemed as if today was the day she threw that saying out the window . . . or at least she would if it wasn't for the fact that her windows were one of the only things about her home that _wasn't _completely damaged.

Oh she was _so_ going tohave a talk with her relator about this.

"Let me guess, it's not what you expected." Amelia's gaze connected with Arthur's as he stood up from the ground. The shock she had gotten from viewing the inside of the house had been so overwhelming that she had forgotten that he had fallen onto the floor.

"Uh . . . not exactly." She said with an obviously forced smile. Her lips curled downwards as she watched him brush off a considerable amount of dust from his clothing; that was not good. Despite this, the smile that often graced her face returned once more. "But it's nothing I can't handle!" He scoffed at her sudden burst of optimism.

For a few moments he looked away from Amelia and scanned the contents of the foyer. "It looks like you've got your work cut out for you." If she hadn't been looking at him, Amelia would have still been able to tell he was smirking at her.

She hated to admit but it was true. Her little 'pet project' looked as if it would take _years _to finish. The Barbie-perfect dream home she had envisioned a little while ago had been well-defined and almost real. Now it was all starting to blur in her mind, the images of tiresome restoration work shielded her view of the finished product.

If the foyer was any foreshadowing as to what the rest of the house looked like then she was definitely in over her head. The open concept it had gave her a view of several narrow hallways and an arched staircase on the right hand side of the entrance way. At one time it looked like the walls had been plastered with stripped white and mulberry colored wallpaper. The majority of it seemed to have been scrapped off leaving only stained patches on damaged, wood walls. Her gaze slowly trailed down towards the ground. It was unfortunate that the copper colored floorboards had holes in them, otherwise they would have been relatively easy to clean.

Taking a deep breath, Amelia hesitantly crossed over the threshold of her new home for the first time. Arthur, however, stood still in the entranceway of the house. To him it would be rude to enter without consent, although, she wouldn't care if he did.

Even when she stopped in the middle of foyer, the sounds that her shoe's had made on the floor still lingered for a few moments after and echoed throughout the house; alerting it of her presence. A strange feeling began to surface within her; it gradually crawled up from her stomach and lodged itself within her chest, refusing to leave. It was the type of feeling that one only got when they felt completely alone. Amelia, however, rejected this notion. Despite what she felt, she knew she wasn't alone. Arthur was still waiting there, watching her. He may have been a stranger but he was still a person and no one could feel alone when people were around, right?

"I would advise you to sleep somewhere else for a while." Amelia blinked as Arthur's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Trust me when I say that it's dangerous to be living alone in this house."

"Thanks for the advice but I think I'll be fine here." She turned her gaze away from him before ending her statement.

"I wouldn't if I were you." He murmured solemnly.

Amelia gritted her teeth, putting extra pressure on the back of her jaw. His statement registered as a challenge in her mind. "Again, I'll be fine."

"Listen, this place is-"

"I said I'd be fine." Both of them were taken back by her bitter tone, especially Amelia. There were very few times in her life were she found herself snapping at someone she barely knew.

"Alright then, seeing as you probably have quite a bit of unpacking to do, I think I'll just head back home." Regardless of the things he wanted to tell her concerning her house and why staying was a bad idea, Arthur found himself turning and walking away from her. He did, however, stop to look back at her when he reached the porch steps. "By the way, it was nice meeting you, Amelia."

"You too," she didn't make a move to stop him from leaving. In the end there was no reason for him to stay, well, other than the fact that she simply didn't want to be left alone and there was no way she was going to tell him _that. _

"_By the way, it was nice meeting you, Amelia."_

The statement continued to repeat over and over again in her mind. It was strange how something so simple and common felt . . . off.

"_By the way, it was nice meeting you, Amelia."_

Maybe it had been the vaguely, direful tone he had used or the concerned expression that tried to come off as blank and nonchalant.

"_It was nice meeting you, Amelia."_

She began to walk out of the house and towards her car, intending to grab a few bags before heading back inside. From there she would access the condition of each room and would spend the night in the one that needed the least amount of repairs . . . or sleep in her car.

"_Amelia."_

. . .

Each bag and box had been dropped unceremoniously into a pile onto porch. Well . . . at least _most _of them had. The first box she had brought from the car had been bloated with various little kitchen utensils and rags, it was practically ready to burst. Although, had she remembered that the second porch step was missing, the box and its contents would have safely reached its destination. Now, along with navigating through her new home, she would have to eventually come back outside and comb through the grass in order to find everything that had fallen out of the box. Although, picking up cheap utensils were the least of her troubles.

Amelia once again stood in the doorway of the house, scanning over the foyer. There were two hallways and a stair case within her line of vision. At the moment, going upstairs was as safe as ice skating on a frozen lake. It looked safe but she couldn't be completely sure, it was better to cross going upstairs off her list. That meant that she had to take either the hallway on her left or right. She pondered over her two choices for a few seconds before coming to a decision. Amelia was right handed, meaning that her right hand did most of the work. Because of that, right was stronger and more reliable then left which, in her mind, meant that taking the right hallway was obviously better than taking the left.

Now there was only one thing left to do: go inside.

Of all the tasks in the world, walking into your own house has to be one of the easiest; that is what most people would say. However, _most_ people are not everyone. There are some people out there who find it easier to be anywhere but 'home'. It's easier to ignore feelings such as loneliness when you're somewhere that's crowed with people, even when they're not talking to you. When your home you can't ignore the fact that you are the only one who's clothes are in the closet, you are the only who cooks food for yourself, and you are the only one who's ever home.

"This is ridicules," she muttered under her breath. "I mean, it's just a house." As she spoke louder, her words echoed throughout her home and eventually came back to her, giving her an idea. Smiling, the American finally moved her stiff legs across the barrier and as expected, nothing happened. However, that didn't mean that it would continue to stay that way. The feeling in her chest was currently lying dormant, waiting for her to go further and further into her home. It would awaken and begin its torment on her mind when she was completely surrounded by the walls of her home, away from the door that would lead her out of this place.

The echoing of each step taken towards the right hallway was like chimes from an alarm clock, each sound only made the feeling more aware of what was going on. She stopped walking for a brief second when she finally reached the opening to the right hallway. "That's weird," The outside of the house was a mesh of boring colors and rotting weeds. The foyer was just as dull and damaged as the outside the only thing that was different was that it lacked plants and animals, something she was thankful for. The hall, however, was . . . _nice. _

The walls along the hallway were adorned with a velvet red wallpaper; not a stain anywhere on it. The fact that the wallpaper wasn't damaged was easier to swallow then the polished, oak wood floors that lacked any sort of holes. "Is this even part of the same house?"

More importantly, was the rest of the house in the same condition?

**I promise that the future chapters won't be filled with long descriptions about the entire house. **


End file.
